Watching the World (quietly)
Author Note: I started writing this as soon as I heard about the pjo ship weeks. I wanted a nice, happy Jeyna fic. It was supposed to be a one shot (sobbing), but it rapidly swelled into something monstrous and focused more on Reyna than any ship. I blame Reyna. Anyway, this will be a series of short little snapshots of varying lengths. Enjoy!
Hylla always knows best. That is the rule. She is the one who knows to go to Circe's Island after their father's death, the one who knows to hide war from the sister who thirsts for something she does not - can not - have. She is the one who replaces images of fire and iron with a hairbrush and endless lengths of silk.
On their first week at the land that reeks of perfumed magic, Reyna asks, "Hylla, when are we going home?"
Home. A word that once meant trees brushed with strong strokes against a brilliant blue sky and animals bristling with jagged teeth and the thrill of raised voices verging on something larger, something that tastes of war -
Hylla reaches over and yanks on Reyna's loose hair firmly. "This is our home," she says fiercely. Then she turns on her heel, moving quickly to join the rest of Circe's handmaidens. Reyna swallows her tears, watching her sister's retreating back quietly. She lifts her arms and captures her hair with a twist of her hands, weaving it into an impenetrable coil. Already the events of the world are shifting into place. Reyna, crafting her own cage with trembling fingers. Hylla, chasing her ambition with determined steps that take her away (always away).
{Loose hair - threat.}
Hylla is the one who watches eagerly as Circe demonstrates feats of magic with a twist of her delicate wrists.
Reyna watches them quietly, peering from between the waxy green fronds of the plant behind Circe's table. Circe and Hylla stand together, two strong women with mouths sharpened with something that looks very much like cruel delight. She creeps closer, her breath catching in her throat as she sees what they are looking at - a small guinea pig, balancing on its hindlegs and spinning recklessly on the marble pavilion. And suddenly it's not just a guinea pig but hands and teeth and gods what if they're next? What if Circe tires of Hylla and decides she prefers dark fur to hair?
{Circe - threat.}
She stumbles forward, all pretense of secrecy lost as she fixes her eyes on the poor guinea pig.
"H-Hylla?" she manages to gasp out, hating how high, how helpless her voice sounds.
Hylla whirls, her eyes narrowing in annoyance when she sees her little sister.
"What are you doing, Reyna?" she hisses, glancing at Circe with something that looks like fear in her dark eyes.
"I- I-" she stutters, and suddenly she's not sure of anything anymore because now Circe is smiling kindly at her and she can't help but feel an immense dislike for her rigid rules and magic and elaborate guises because there is something out there that she needs but she can't name what it is and it's driving her insane-
Circe smiles sweetly. It is not a nice smile. It reminds Reyna of a spider beckoning a fly into its web.
"Oh, honey," she says endearingly, forgivingly. As if Reyna is the one who has committed the evil, and maybe she has - to Hylla - but she's still reeling from the sudden roar of hunger from somewhere deep within her body, and her small feet falter backward.
"I'm sorry," she mutters, still filled with burning resentment that she's not quite sure what to do with. Then she turns and flees, resolving to watch quietly. Biding her time is safer than rushing headlong into senseless combat.
{No plan - threat.}
AN: Thanks for reading! Gods, I love Reyna. All reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter (installment? Chapter is a bit misleading).